


What Could Have Happened

by punkerbones



Category: More than Meets the Eye - Fandom, Transformers
Genre: Canon Divergent, Fix-It, Fix-it fic, Gen, What could have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7992853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkerbones/pseuds/punkerbones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is intended to be a fix it fic for the ending of MTMTE #52, where Tarn turns on Overlord and spares Kaon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Allies and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronted with a panicked plea from Kaon and acidic mockery from Overlord, Tarn must make a pivotal decision.

If there was one thing that Overlord was good at, it was using his voice to grate on the absolute last nerve of everyone in his presence. In fact, Tarn was willing to wager that Overlord’s voice had caused just about as many as his own. Now, whether those deaths were by a spark giving up or a spark being ripped out of the fool that had lost patience with Overlord and attacked him, that was an entirely different matter altogether. And quite arguably most irritating was that the Phase Sixer’s presence and verbal jabs even made Nickel’s normally acceptable, if not quite forward, zeal seem like it was simply compounding the issue.

So when Kaon came rushing in, looking more panicked and upset than anything else, Tarn felt his normally seething temper begin to broil. He was fast regretting having ever let Overlord live, much less on board the warworld and near those he considered allies. The massive mech was threatening to undo what he had fought to keep intact, if by presence and words alone.

“Who gave you permission to leave your post?” Tarn demanded, his voice steely.

Appearing undeterred by his commander’s tone, Kaon continued forward until he was right in front of Tarn, worry obviously etched in their features. Looking startlingly unlike the Kaon that Tarn was used to seeing, the veteran DJD member appeared as though his entire world was threatening to crumble.

“The Autobots took the Pet!” Kaon cried, looking up pleadingly at the masked mech that towered before him and seemingly completely ignoring Overlord’s presence.

Though he said nothing, Tarn felt his jaw set reflexively and he had to restrain himself from clenching his fists. Of all the things to happen…

Then again, on the other hand, he hadn’t anticipated Kaon to be this upset about possibly losing the rabid turbofox. It had been an amusing companion on board the _Peaceful Tyranny_ , of course, but to see Kaon in such straits caught even Tarn off guard. The same mech who had assisted in arguably some of the most brutal and vicious torture sessions that history would ever bear witness to was now frantically pleading for a _turbofox_ of all things.

It was Overlord’s voice that snapped Tarn out of his thoughts, and what the Phase Sixer had to say did nothing to help assuage Tarn’s anger.

“You have a _pet_?” he chortled, clapping his hands. “Oh, this is too perfect.”

“We can’t attack until we rescue him!” Kaon continued, still appearing oblivious to Overlord’s presence and focusing solely on Tarn.

Before the DJD leader could answer, Overlord continued to prattle on, and, by doing so, fed the fires of Tarn’s temper.

“So _this_ is the mighty DJD-a group of animal lovers led by a mollycoddled zealot who kowtows to every aggressor!” Overlord sneered, motioning to both Tarn and Kaon with a sweeping gesture. “Who’d have thought the gulf between reputation and reality could be so wide?”

‘Who indeed…?’ Tarn mused to himself.

His burning gaze immediately locked onto Kaon, and Tarn’s immediate response was to lash out; not just at Kaon for abandoning their post and giving Overlord more fodder against the DJD, but at Overlord as well for not knowing when to simply be quiet. He would not be known as some ‘mollycoddled zealot’, as Overlord had so meticulously put it, nor would he have his team be reduced to ‘animal lovers’.

Tarn adamantly _refused_ to turn into some compassionate, decrepit shadow of a warlord who refused to fight even at the most blatant of challenges. He would _not_ become what Megatron, now arguably the most heinous traitor to the Cause and the one who had single-handedly turned Tarn’s world upside down...for the second time. Megatron had given Tarn the world that the masked mech had pursued and thrived in, only to flippantly take it away for disgustingly soft hearted reasons.

Gaze remaining focused on Kaon, crimson optics looking into pitch ones, Tarn studied the distressed expression written so clearly on the mech’s features. It was then that the DJD leader saw the underlying tone of trust. That desperate look of pleading held up only by the faith that Tarn would somehow right what had been wronged. ...as he had always attempted to do for his team.

The same faith that Tarn had once placed in Megatron.

The same faith that had made it all the more scornful when Megatron had disposed of Tarn so callously.

The same faith that Tarn would not betray when he was able to possibly right the wrong.

Forcing the roiling fury that had been burning him without relent, Tarn knelt down and held out his arms. He ignored the snickering behind him from Overlord, and instead opted to focus solely on Kaon for the moment. The Phase Sixer would soon have something more to think about that merely insulting the DJD…

“Come here, Kaon,” Tarn offered, his voice low but unwavering.

The red mech needed no further coaxing, as this was not the first time that Tarn had offered physical closeness as a means of comfort, and Kaon all but collapsed into Tarn’s hold. The smaller mech’s frame trembled intermittently in Tarn’s arms, upset still apparent. His helm rested against Tarn’s chassis, hands weakly grasping at Tarn’s arms.

However, the moment was but a brief respite for Kaon, as Tarn pulled away from his subordinate and studied their features for a few moments. His hands clasped on the sides of the red mech’s helm, gazes locking once more.

“I never realised that you cared for that creature as much as you do,” Tarn explained, his voice retaining its low, unfaltering tone. “Sorry.”

For a split moment, it seemed as though time stopped, and Tarn knew that this was the final chance that he would have to prove that he was anything but a ‘mollycoddled zealot’. Not only to Overlord, but to Kaon, to Nickel, and even to Deathsaurus, who had stepped back once Kaon had charged into the room.

And prove himself Tarn would do…

“Now, however, is not the time to discuss such things,” the DJD leader continued, keeping his hold on Kaon’s helm firm so that their focus would remain on Tarn. “We can speak of ways to retrieve the Pet later.”

“But...but, Tarn!” Kaon cried, grabbing at their commander’s hands and pulling at them in an almost begging manner. “What if he-”

“Now is _not_ the time, Kaon,” Tarn repeated, his voice getting sterner. “You needn’t worry about the Pet. We will get them back.”

“But how…?” The question was hoarse and barely whispered out, but it was undoubtedly the most pressing one on Kaon’s thoughts.

“Yes, benevolent Tarn, savior of the little animals, how?” Overlord cackled.

For some reason, that barb appeared to pull Kaon out of his fervor, and he tilted his helm by a slight degree, as though acknowledging Overlord for the first time. While Tarn didn’t say anything, it soon became apparent that he didn’t have to, as realization dawned across Kaon’s features. The electrocutioner gave a shaky nod, wordlessly conveying his understanding as to what Tarn had initially said, and made a few, shuffled steps away from Tarn. Though Kaon shot Overlord a withering scowl, it went completely unnoticed, as the massive mech was instead giving Tarn a look of mock adoration; with his lips pursed and gaze solely on the DJD leader.

“How sweet,” Overlord crooned. “This just keeps getting better and better. I didn’t know that the DJD had sessions where they hugged out their problems. What’s next, Tarn? Do you sing to ease the suffering of the less fortunate with that magic voice of yours?”

“Fitting you should mention that, Overlord,” Tarn answered, his voice dipping to a tone that felt like second nature for him. He gave a quick nod to Nickel, who had wheeled over to try and calm Kaon a little further so as to avoid incurring further ire, before focusing on his real target. Overlord. “For while I may not _sing_ to you... **_I will most assuredly give you a lesson as to why I am the leader of the Decepticon Justice Division._ ** ”

Watching Overlord’s expression go from confused, to concerned, and finally to horrified made dealing with the mech’s verbal barbs all worth it. Not even wanting to suppress the sardonic grin that spread across his features, Tarn took a step towards Overlord, his Voice continuing to coil around the Phase Sixer’s spark like invisible, invincible threads. They laced around the lifeforce, knotting and refusing to relent under Tarn’s guidance.

“ **_Your opinions. Your useless prattling. All of it is a gross waste of my time. You’re here as a tool, Overlord. An overpowered and overly arrogant tool._ ** ”

Wincing and glowering at Tarn in obviously growing fury and concern, Overlord staggered as his spark yanked back against the DJD leader’s lethal ability. The resistance from Overlord’s spark was rare, but not unexpected. The DJD leader had anticipated that someone such as Overlord wouldn’t be such an easy target, even for his Voice. He wasn’t, however, anticipating that Overlord would still have the strength and wherewithal to suddenly lunge forward and grab his throat, attempting to hoist him up off the ground and effectively silence him.

The response was immediate.

Tarn’s Voice suddenly growled out from his vocalizer that was now under assault, looking to claw at Overlord’s frantically pulsing spark...and then the unmistakable sound of Kaon’s electricity firing to life filled the room, charging the air and making flickers of violet float through the air. Still grimacing, Overlord turned his glowering optics to Kaon, who was standing defiantly in the face of the mech who currently had their commanding officer in a chokehold. Even Nickel was standing alongside the electrocutioner, holding the largest wrench she could manage at the ready.

Within moments, a pair of bladed wings suddenly set on Overlord’s shoulders, the deadly, curved metal hooking around the Phase Sixer’s throat. They were a graceful threat, holding the promise of a bloody retribution if Overlord continued to try and choke Tarn into silence. The silhouette of Deathsaurus was barely visible, shrouded by the massive mech’s frame, but their presence was unmistakable.

“Stand _down_ , Overlord,” Deathsaurus commanded sharply.

“What’s-what’s this now?” Overlord laughed hoarsely, his strained voice reflecting the pressure being placed on his spark from Tarn’s relentless growls.

“This...,” Tarn wheezed, struggling to keep his Voice locked on the Phase Sixer’s spark. “This is... **_loyalty, Overlord_ ** . Something...you would... **_not understand_ **.”

“How quaint,” came the sneered reply.

Despite Overlord’s feigned confidence, he released Tarn from his grip, letting the DJD leader unceremoniously fall to the ground. Though he staggered, Tarn remained standing. He had to remain standing. He would not fall to Overlord’s brute bully tactics, and this was a lesson he wanted to ensure that Overlord remembered. He let his Voice untangle from the mech’s spark, granting it reprieve...for now.

“Once I’ve killed Megatron,” Overlord stated coolly, though there was still a wavering in his voice, “you’re next, Tarn. You and your precious bunch of do-gooder Decepticons.”

Pivoting, Overlord tromped down the hall, appearing as though he hadn’t felt Tarn’s Voice at all. His exit, however, did cause the rest to relax, and Tarn rubbed his throat gingerly. Short ripples of pain shot up along the cables, but it would be gone soon enough. He glanced over to Kaon, who had since charged down and was favoring Tarn with a worried look. It was in stark contrast to the frustrated, yet familiar, look that Nickel was giving him.

“Next time, Tarn,” Deathsaurus muttered, turning his attention back to the DJD leader after having watched Overlord’s exit, “how about you let me make a judgment call _before_ you go recruiting and bring someone on board?”


	2. An Unwelcome Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the fix it fic.
> 
> Deathsaurus voices his concerns of having Overlord on the warworld while the pressure mounts on Tarn. The DJD leader finds himself backed into a corner that he never anticipated to be in, but that he will have to fight his way out of.

Watching Kaon pace back and forth, the blind mech nervously clenching and unclenching their hands as stray sparks of electricity flickered off their shoulder coils, Tarn ventilated out a heavy sigh. He wanted to say or do something that would calm his second in command, who kept mumbling fervently about the Pet, but at the current moment, he had more dire thoughts on his mind. And one of those went by the name Overlord.

The DJD leader knew that he had fallen, considerably, from the good graces and trust of not only Deathsaurus, but his team as well, by bringing Overlord along with him. At the time, it had seemed like a halfway decent idea. Overlord despised and wanted to fight Megatron almost as much as Tarn did, and they would be nearly unstoppable when released out onto the battlefield.

But, as Overlord had already shown, they had no regard for any sort of cooperation...with anybody. They were simply going to irritate Tarn with verbal barbs and cause discord amongst the ranks.

Sighing and rubbing the forehelm of his mask, Tarn mentally berated himself for having been so short-sighted. In his eagerness to destroy Megatron and his pathetic, Autobot cohorts, Tarn had inadvertently put his entire mission at risk. Worse yet, he had put his team, Deathsaurus, and everybody aboard the warworld at risk. All it would take was for Overlord to decide that they wanted to do things _their_ way. And then it would be an absolute madhouse, and quite possibly slaughterhouse, within the warworld.

“Kaon, please, I’m trying to think,” Tarn muttered quietly, rubbing the forehelm of his mask once again.

Seeming not to hear their commander, Kaon continued to pace back and forth, wringing their hands and continuing to mumble in worry about the Pet.

“Kaon, _please_ , I would appreciate some quiet for a few moments,” Tarn said, raising his voice a little.

Again, it seemed that Kaon didn’t hear the DJD leader. If anything, they began to pace back and forth a little faster and with more urgency.

Watching Kaon for a few moments, his optics narrowing behind his mask, Tarn felt the last bits of his already frayed patience finally snap. In a sudden, violent movement, Tarn shot up from his seat and slammed his fists down on the table in front of him.

“Kaon! Silence that infernal yammering of yours!” Tarn thundered, his voice echoing with the metallic clang of his fists hitting the top of the table hard enough to dent it.

Stopping with a jolt, Kaon froze in mid-step and stared up at Tarn with wide, horrified sockets. He continued to wring his hands, but all electricity dimmed from his shoulder coils, and the blind mech was silent.

Realizing what he had done, Tarn sighed heavily and shook his helm, collapsing back into his seat. He slumped over, gripping the edge of the now dented table with one hand, while rubbing his mask with the other. Whatever anger he may have temporarily had was immediately quelled by the sight of Kaon looking up at him with uncharacteristic worry and fear. The mere sight brought a sharp twinge of shame to Tarn’s spark, and he remained silent for a few more moments before speaking.

“I’m...sorry, Kaon,” Tarn said slowly, his voice quiet once again. “I did not mean to lash out at you. I...I simply have a lot on my mind right now.”

Keeping his hand on his mask, concealing his gaze, Tarn sighed again, but was vaguely aware that Kaon was moving again. He heard the blind mech’s footfalls draw closer, until they were right at his side. Tarn lifted his gaze, looking to his right side, to see Kaon standing there. They still had their hands clasped at their chassis, and there was still concern evident on the blind mech’s features, but, to a lesser degree, they seemed a little calmer.

“Nothing to be sorry for, sir,” Kaon replied, his voice quavering slightly. “I...I simply got lost in my own thoughts.”

Tarn studied Kaon for a long moment, his optics flicking back and forth behind his mask, before the DJD leader reached over and stroked Kaon’s helm. The action was slow and deliberate, Tarn attempting to reassure his second in command as much as he could, given the circumstances. After a few more strokes, the masked mech let his hand rest on Kaon’s shoulder. He gently pulled on the mech, drawing them closer, until he could effortlessly scoop them up and let them sit on his lap.

Under normal circumstances, Tarn would have refrained from such affectionate displays in a setting where he and Kaon could be seen. Now, however, he simply didn’t have the energy to care. Both he and Kaon, along with, most likely, everybody else on the warworld, were running on frayed nerves and the rush of knowing they would soon be back on the battlefield. It was an exhausting combination, and when given the chance, could easily bring down even the most stalwart bots.

So, for now, Tarn was content to toss aside what he would normally do, and try to provide some comfort to both Kaon and himself.

“I fear...I have made a very grave error, Kaon,” Tarn murmured, resuming the stroking of the electrocutioner’s helm.

“Oh? Why so?”

“Overlord.”

“Oh.”

Both DJD members fell silent, both knowing just how right Tarn was.

Sighing heavily, Kaon rested his frame against Tarn’s, trying to push aside his unending worry for the Pet, if only for the moment, so that he might be of some use to his commander. He knew that he had angered Tarn considerably by abandoning his post, which had, in turn, set the DJD leader up for considerable scorn and humiliation from Overlord. Had it not been for the fact that the Pet had been taken, Kaon wouldn’t have been able to be in the same room with his leader without burning from shame.

Now, though, Kaon didn’t know what to think.

He wanted to believe that they would retrieve the Pet and continue on with butchering Megatron and the Autobots that so foolishly followed him. But those thoughts seemed so disconnected and foreign to each other, that the blind mech wasn’t sure that even Tarn could make those happen. If anything, Kaon had a sick feeling in his spark that it would end up being one or the other,.

Or, even worse, _neither_.

“I...don’t think you meant to do any harm by bringing Overlord along with us,” Kaon said slowly, still trying to keep his thoughts together as he spoke.

“I do notice that you used the word ‘meant’,” Tarn replied with a chuckle, never ceasing his stroking of Kaon’s helm and back.

Pausing, realizing what he had said, Kaon grimaced a little and ducked his helm, but found a bit of reassurance in the fact that Tarn had managed a weak laugh about the matter. Keeping his blind gaze downcast, Kaon wrung his hands slowly, wanting to be far more careful in what he said before speaking again. Even if Tarn did forgive him for his early transgressions, Kaon certainly didn’t want to test the masked mech’s patience.

“Sir, do you really think that Overlord will help us?” Kaon finally asked, his voice almost inaudible.

“I….” Tarn sighed heavily, seeming to deflate. “I wish I knew, Kaon. I truly wish I knew. At the time, when I convinced him to come back with me, I could only see the facts that he despises the Traitor almost as much as we do, and that he is considerably powerful.”

Frowning in concern at the last part, knowing that Overlord could be a very deadly problem if he decided to turn against them, Kaon lifted a shaky hand and tried to return the physical gestures of affection that his commander was bestowing on him. His digit tips traced across the edges of the armor on Tarn’s chassis, his palm grazing across the warm metal. The electrocutioner didn’t know if he was doing any good, but he could only hope that he was providing even half the reassurance that Tarn was to him.

“I’m sure you intended nothing but the best with your decision,” Kaon whispered softly.

Chuckling weakly, Tarn grasped Kaon’s hand with his own, running his thumb across the tips of the digits, before sighing heavily and slouching back in the chair. As much as he appreciated Kaon’s kind words, he couldn’t bring himself to reply to what he knew what a blatant lie. If anything, Tarn guessed that Kaon, along with the rest of the DJD, wanted to give him a very stern and lengthy lecture about how imbecilic his decision had been.

Fortunately, to a lesser extent, at least, he didn’t have to.

Kaon suddenly scurried off his lap, standing tall at his side, just as the door to the room opened. Swiveling the chair around, his temper already starting to flare as he prepared to demand to know who was barging in without being announced, Tarn rose up sharply.

“And just who do-”

It was Deathsaurus.

The warworld commander was giving Tarn a level, pointed look, and though his expression was relatively neutral, the masked mech didn’t miss the fact that Deathsaurus’s posture bristled whenever Tarn abruptly rose from his chair.

Immediately regretting his reaction, Tarn forced himself to relax his posture, knowing that he was in no place to challenge Deathsaurus. True, if he did fight the beastformer, there was a decent chance that he could win, but that was one of the very last things that Tarn wanted to do. Deathsaurus was one of the few he could still, tentatively, call an ally, outside of the DJD, and Tarn didn’t want to risk losing that any more than he had.

“Deathsaurus. My apologies, I-”

“Spare me your apologies, Tarn,” the winged mech stated with a quick motion of his hand. He then loosely crossed his arms, optics narrowing a slight degree. “Your newest recruit has been harassing my crew.”

Sighing quietly, Tarn nodded. He didn’t know why he had hoped that Deathsaurus had come to discuss anything else, but it was maddening to hear that Overlord was already causing discord, nonetheless. He turned his gaze back to Deathsaurus, noting that Kaon had inched a little closer to him, and gave a quick shrug.

“Shall I go talk to him?”

“Depends on what sort of ‘talk’ you’re going to give him,” Deathsaurus replied curtly. “I’d prefer it be one that he doesn’t recover from, but I doubt that’s what you had in mind.”

“Given that he’s liable to explode and cause untold amounts of damage should I use my Voice on his spark, I can’t say that that would be a good idea.”

“And bringing him on board my warworld was?” Deathsaurus snapped back.

Wincing inwardly at how sharp the beastformer’s tone was, Tarn maintained his composure and took the barbs in stride. Deathsaurus had every right to be angry with him, and, as much as it burned at Tarn, the DJD leader would simply have to accept that fact for the moment. He could try to mend things between himself and Deathsaurus later.

“No, it was not,” Tarn answered, keeping his voice level. “I was just discussing that with Kaon.”

“So why, in the name of the Cause, would you do so!?”

“If you were looking to utterly destroy Megatron, what would you have done?”

Stopping, Deathsaurus stared at Tarn for a few moments, obviously caught off guard by the question. His wings twitched as he tried to formulate an answer, but, ultimately, there wasn’t one. At least, one that Deathsaurus deemed satisfactory.

“As much as I would love to see Megatron destroyed, I don’t think getting ourselves destroyed in the process is a very sane line of thinking.”

Now it was Tarn’s turn to hesitate in his answer. He hadn’t disclosed his suicide attempt to Deathsaurus, mostly because he hadn’t seen a need to. It would have damaged his credibility and appearance to the warworld commander. Now, though, Tarn began to wonder if there were still lingering desires to see his life end along with the one he had devoted it to.

...and then there was the horrifying thought that Tarn intended to destroy everything, and everyone, around him in the process.

“Tarn?”

Deathsaurus’s voice snapped the DJD leader out of his quickly spiralling downwards thoughts, and the masked mech just as promptly straightened his posture and returned the beastformer’s inquisitive gaze with a short nod.

“I will speak to Overlord, albeit in a less lethal way, and remind him to refrain from harassing your crew. I apologize for the fact that he has been doing so.”

Stopping himself from saying that the apologies were unnecessary, as they did nothing to alleviate the situation, Deathsaurus simply nodded. Even though he highly doubted that anything Tarn said to Overlord without using that deadly Voice of his would do any good, the beastformer decided against mentioning such thoughts. He guessed that he should at least be grateful that Tarn was making an attempt to try and curb Overlord’s antics.

He just hoped that it would do some shred of good.

 

* * *

 

As he made his way to the area of the warworld that Overlord had last been seen, the docking bay, no less, Tarn didn’t miss the rather baleful looks that Deathsaurus’s crew favored him with. None of them were suicidal enough to actually say anything, but he heard them mutter things under their breath as he passed. Under normal circumstances, Tarn would have been outraged and confronted them directly. Now, though, he was bitterly aware that he fully deserved the vitriol.

It was a surprisingly humbling feeling, one that Tarn had not felt since...well, since before he was known as Tarn. And the feeling was just as bitter as it was humbling.

Sighing shortly, Tarn forced himself to ignore the Decepticons, even the ones who were a little louder with their condescending words or angry scowls, and focused on the task at hand. He knew that it was not going to be easy, at all, to try and get Overlord to calm their antics. The larger mech seemed to thrive on causing discord for others, and the stronger the others were, the better, it seemed.

And while Tarn had his trump card, of course, of being able to use his Voice if need be, it was something that he wanted to avoid. His Voice hadn't had as strong an effect on Overlord's spark as it had on other sparks, and that was troublesome in and of itself. The fact that it was both a strain on Tarn and gave Overlord more than enough incentive to attack was even worse.

The sight of Overlord walking around the docking bay, the large mech looking over control panels and a few of the escape pods that were being worked on, pulled Tarn from his thoughts. The DJD leader paused and straightened his posture, mentally preparing himself for the conversation that was about to unfold.

"Overlord," Tarn called, his voice firm and emotionless.

Pausing, Overlord purposefully hesitated for a long moment, before turning to look at the masked mech. He already had a knowing smirk playing on his lips, and as he strode over, Tarn could hear the massive mech chuckling to themselves.

"What's this?" Overlord asked. "Did I offend poor Deathsaurus's sensitive feelings? That shouldn't surprise me given how he's keeping the company of a mollycoddled zealot."

Ignoring the obvious insult and attempt to raise his ire, Tarn waited for Overlord to finish, favored them with an unimpressed look, and then replied.

"While I do not know about Deathsaurus's feelings, it has come to my attention that you have been causing problems and harassing his crew." Tarn narrowed his optics, his gaze never wavering from Overlord's. "I seem to recall that we agreed you were to leave his crew alone. They are Decepticons that are fighting for us, you do-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Overlord tsked, holding up his index digit so abruptly and close to Tarn's mask that the DJD leader reflexively leaned back. "These Decepticons are fighting for you, Tarn. You and your little, overly sensitive animal of a companion. I do not need anybody to fight for me. I can win my own battles, thank you very much."

"Regardless of how much your hubris has clouded your judgment," Tarn snapped back, irritation rising in his tone, "I will not have you harassing his crew. Whether or not you think they are fighting for you, they are, at the very least, not our enemy."

"That's certainly rich," Overlord scoffed, the remnants of his grin fading. "I seem to recall you had all of them and their leader on your silly, little List for quite some time."

"Things have changed, Overlord. Surely even you are able to see that."

"And some things, Tarn," Overlord growled, stepping closer to the tankformer so that he was glowering down at them, "do not change. And one such thing is that I do not take orders from anyone. Not Megatron. Not Deathsaurus. And most certainly not you, you pathetic, orphaned zealot."

The urge to use his Voice, even if it wouldn't have the full effect, was almost too much to resist. In that moment, Tarn wanted nothing more than to see Overlord writhing in inescapable agony. However tempting it was, though, the DJD leader refrained, and instead ventilated a short sigh to compose himself before looking up at Overlord.

"It is not an order, Overlord, but a suggestion."

"And if I choose to ignore such a weak-willed suggestion?" Overlord sneered.

"Oh, I think you're well aware of what will happen," Tarn replied, letting his Voice flicker ever so lightly across Overlord's spark.

Though it was nothing but a short-lived prick of pain, Overlord didn't miss the sensation of his spark being threatened. He bristled and glared at Tarn, momentarily entertaining the idea of grabbing the masked mech by their throat and ripping out their offending vocalizer. The idea was short-lived, however, since Overlord knew that Tarn would not go down so easily, and such an attack on the DJD leader would bring down the wrath of the remaining DJD, along with Deathsaurus and his crew.

And while Overlord was fairly certain that he could handle them, the fact that he wasn't positive was enough to make him hesitate.

"If you think I'm going to simply disappear after I'm done ripping Megatron apart, you are sadly mistaken," Overlord hissed. "I don't appreciate your whining threats or the fact that I have to fight your battles for you."

Once again, Tarn steeled himself over to Overlord's taunts. He knew that the larger mech was simply trying to goad him into a fight, and that if he were to initiate the fight, then Overlord could retaliate in self defense. It would be an unnecessary and costly fight.

"Personally, I don't care what you plan to do afterwards," Tarn answered airily, smirking from behind his mask. "You cannot hunt the hunter, Overlord, and if you come after me or my team, you will find that the DJD is a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm looking forward to it," Overlord hissed, venom dripping from his tone.

With that, the larger mech roughly brushed by Tarn, causing the masked mech to stagger a little as they rudely shoved him aside. Fortunately, Tarn didn't completely lose his balance, and quickly regained his composure. He watched as Overlord stormed off, his smirk still playing on his features. While he hadn't gotten the reaction that he wanted, Tarn had certainly gotten the reaction that he expected.

He could only hope that Overlord didn't doubt the sincerity of his words.

 

* * *

 

"So you spoke to him?" Deathsaurus repeated, disbelief apparent in his tone.

"I did," Tarn replied with a nod. The rest of the DJD was crowded around, all of them curious to know how their leader's conversation with the massive mech had gone.

"Dare I ask how it went?"

"About as well as you would surmise."

"Wonderful," Deathsaurus groaned, rolling his optics.

"I feel that I should mention," Tarn continued, turning his attention to his teammates, "that Overlord is intending to come after the Division, myself in particular, once this is all said and done."

"Just gives us an excuse to cut his head off again," Helex replied quickly with a grin.

The others were quick to voice their agreement, but before Tarn could voice his appreciation for their readiness, a sharp hiss from Deathsaurus made him pause.

"And what of me and my crew?" the beastformer demanded. "You and your group of murderers may be safe, but I would not have formed an alliance with the DJD if I knew I would be forced to deal with their prey."

Though Kaon started to protest, Tarn held up a hand to silence them. As harsh as it may have been, Deathsaurus's concern was valid, and it was something that the masked mech intended to quell.

"The Decepticon Justice Division will deal with Overlord, Deathsaurus, before he causes any harm to you or your crew," Tarn promised. "You have my word."

For a moment, it looked as though Deathsaurus might have protested, but they just as quickly fell silent. The winged mech mulled over the promise that he was being presented with, studying Tarn in silence. While it would have been easy for Tarn to lie to him, Deathsaurus knew that there wasn't really a point for them to lie to him, either.

"Very well, Tarn," Deathsaurus sighed. "I'm going to take you at your word and hope that your Division is able to handle Overlord."

"We did so once, I am sure we can do so again."

Deathsaurus stared at Tarn, then chuckled and quirked a helm ridge.

"Forgive me for saying so, but it doesn't look like you did so well the first time," the beastformer pointed out.

"We cut his head off," Tesarus interjected curtly. "We didn't know he'd be coming back from that."

The titan's statement was enough to make Deathsaurus pause in thought, and they then nodded shortly before shrugging.

"Then may I suggest dismemberment and melting him down?" the warworld commander offered. He then grinned, albeit somewhat morbidly. "Or perhaps just hold him down and make his spark give up completely?"

"I think, given the recent turn of events," Tarn mused, "the latter is going to be the course of action we take. Destroy the spark and you destroy the very essence of the abomination."

Though he noticed his teammates give him concerned looks, Tarn ignored them for the moment. All of them knew that it would be a gamble for Tarn to use his Voice on Overlord's spark, but as far as the DJD leader was concerned, it was a gamble they would have to take. Deathsaurus, on the other hand, was blissfully ignorant of the risk, and, if anything, seemed a bit intrigued at the prospect.

“You really think that Voice of yours can destroy Overlord’s spark?” the warworld commander asked, a definite gleam in his optics.

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” Tarn asked, returning the look.

Chuckling in response, Deathsaurus turned his gaze so that he was looking forward.

“Well, well, well, Tarn… You may end up surprising me, yet.”


	3. Reflections and No Emergency Exits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are mounting as the next confrontation draws closer, and Tarn may find that his decisions will come back to haunt him.

Staring at his reflection in the sword blade, Deathsaurus silently wondered about the outcome of what was going to transpire. He had let Tarn, the DJD, and a few of those that volunteered from the warworld to go on the excursion that the masked mech had wanted to lead. They had been quick to assure Deathsaurus that it was simply a rather dramatic means to get Megatron’s attention, but even then, the winged mech had made Tarn swear to bring back his soldiers alive and in one piece. And even though they had, Deathsaurus couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness that had settled in his spark.

Slowly tilting the blade so that the light gleamed off it and obscured his reflection, the warworld commander ventilated a long sigh. He wasn’t sure why he felt so unsure about the future and the tasks they were about to undertake. The DJD by themselves would have been able to handle the small remainder of Autobots with nary a second thought. To have allied with Deathsaurus and his crew was most assuredly the definition of overkill. And then there was Overlord.

Overlord…

Perhaps that was why Deathsaurus found himself so wary. While Tarn was too fixated on Megatron and too blind by their hate, the beastformer hadn’t missed the signs that Overlord would have been just as eager to kill Tarn as they would be to kill Megatron. Overlord was completely self-serving, and Deathsaurus had a sinking suspicion that the moment things no longer suited Overlord’s liking, he, Tarn, and the rest would have a whole new, and very deadly, problem on their hands.

The sound of the door opening behind him made Deathsaurus stop his thoughts, and he turned to see Tarn walking towards him. The tankformer’s cannons still smoldered faintly with residual wisps of smoke, but the stride in the masked mech’s step told Deathsaurus all that he needed to know. As far as Tarn was concerned, the little ‘excursion’ had been a success.

“You seem pleased with yourself,” the beastformer said, setting aside his sword.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Tarn replied with a dour chuckle. “My message was received, loud and clear, and now I just have to wait for the Traitor to reply.”

Deathsaurus didn’t say anything. In fact, his short noise of acknowledgment was almost too quiet to even be heard, and had Tarn not been expecting some sort of response from the beastformer, it would have been missed entirely. Quirking a helm ridge from behind his mask, Tarn took a step to the winged mech, who had returned to staring blankly at his sword blade. The DJD leader stopped only half a pace from having his frame brush against Deathsaurus’s, and instead opted to lightly trace his index digit tip along the edge of one of the beastformer’s wing blades.

Startling, Deathsaurus whirled around, giving Tarn a wide-opticed look that was a mix of insulted, disdainful, and alarmed.

“Why, Deathsaurus,” Tarn said airily, tilting his helm to the side. “Whatever is the matter?”

Forcing himself to calm, even as he tucked his wings close to him, Deathsaurus stared levelly back at Tarn. He knew that it was hardly a wise idea to tell the DJD leader that he thought their idea was a foolhardy and borderline suicidal one. However, Deathsaurus wasn’t so intimidated that he was going to lie and say that everything was fine. All he had to do was pick his words carefully.

Very carefully.

“Have you ever fought Megatron, Tarn?” Deathsaurus finally inquired, his voice quiet but firm.

The question appeared to catch the masked mech off guard, but Tarn then scoffed and shrugged.

“Yes. Recently. He was-”

“I meant before he decided he wanted to be a pacifist,” Deathsaurus interjected sharply. “Did you ever have even a brief moment of insubordination? One where you thought you might be able to overthrow him?”

“No. Never,” Tarn answered immediately and with a level of vehemence that made them both wince. For all of his posturing, that level of passion gave away the internal struggle that the DJD leader was going through. So, in an attempt to recover his composure, Tarn gave a quick, nonchalant shrug. “I never had the need to.”

“Hmn. I’m going to hope that’s all it was,” Deathsaurus replied steely, optics narrowing a slight degree. Before Tarn could object, the warworld commander continued. “I have, Tarn. I had to. Twice, actually. The second time is when I took the warworld for my own. The first time is the one that Megatron won’t talk about. Did he tell you about that one, Tarn?”

Once again, Deathsaurus had managed to catch Tarn off guard. The masked mech had never heard of the beastformer confronting his former Lord twice. Once, of course. It had been the insubordination that had put Deathsaurus and those that associated with him on the List. The second time had...well, it had obviously been kept a secret from the DJD. And as bitter as it was, Tarn had to admit to himself, and only himself, that the realization sent a sharp twinge of insult through his spark.

“I didn’t think so,” Deathsaurus continued, noting Tarn’s silence. He ventilated a long sigh, memories seeping back into his thoughts. “The first time was when I actually rebelled against Megatron. When I told him that I was tired of my compatriots and myself being used as cannon fodder. When I told him that he was absolutely power hungry and a total lunatic. I bet you can guess how well that went over.”

Oh, yes. Tarn had a pretty good idea of how well the Traitor would have taken those kinds of words. He remembered the few times he had been...with Megatron and other Decepticons. Even the smallest hints of insolence were met with a heavy hand and harsh words. Megatron had even managed to break one mech’s spinal strut when they had had the audacity to rebuke one of Megatron’s orders. So to be told that they were a ‘total lunatic’ would have prompted far worse than just a broken spinal strut.

“Except he hadn’t been expecting me to actually fight back. He had thought that a single cannon blast and kick to the midsection would be enough to silence me and put me back in my place. But I was angry, Tarn. I was furious. By that point, I had already made up my mind that I would either leave that room liberated from Megatron’s control, or in pieces to be melted down.” Deathsaurus grinned bitterly as the memories came flooding back, his fangs flashing briefly. Tarn watched the expression with interest, momentarily infatuated as he watched the warworld commander tell him about what had to have been one of the most harrowing fights of their life. “So I swung back. And I hit him. I punched Megatron so hard across the face that he actually staggered. By this point, his guards were losing their minds and scrambling around. They didn’t want to get caught up in the fray, and I can’t say that I blame them. I barely noticed, though. I had my target, and I knew I had to take him down and made sure he stayed down at least long enough for me to make my escape. I had managed to catch Megatron off guard just long enough to give myself the upper hand.” Deathsaurus glanced over at Tarn, the same, bitter smile on his features. “And do you know what happened?”

Tarn could only shake his helm slightly.

“I barely made it out alive,” Deathsaurus hissed, stepping towards Tarn. The winged mech’s optics were narrowed to angry slits, and his wings, having been so recently tucked away, were now raised in upset. “I had managed to not only catch Megatron off guard, but I’d even gotten the upper hand. ...and he still almost extinguished my spark.”

In the past, Tarn would have beamed at such words. To hear that his Lord-no, no... _former_ Lord had dealt with such a mighty insubordinate so easily would have spoken volumes of praise to Megatron’s power. Tarn would have been proud to call himself a servant of such might and prowess. But that was the past. Now, Deathsaurus’s words only served to bewilder, and slightly irritate, Tarn.

“What are you getting at Deathsaurus?” the masked mech asked firmly.

“What I am trying to get through to you is that even though I had the upper hand, I lost. Badly. And had it not been for the clumsiness of a guard, I would not be standing here in front of you right now.” Deathsaurus drew in a short ventilation, still trying to pick his words at least somewhat carefully by this point. “You think you’ve got the upper hand because you’ve surrounded yourself with very, very powerful people, while Megatron’s gone off and, supposedly, completely renounced violence. You’re underestimating all of those around you Tarn. Don’t let it be your undoing.”

Even though Deathsaurus’s words sent a chill through Tarn’s spark that the masked mech couldn’t quite describe, the DJD leader refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in the face of having to hear about his former Lord’s accomplishments in such painstaking detail. Not with how those words had stirred up feelings of pained longing for something that would now never be. Instead, Tarn focused on the anger that the misery drew up, and he glared at Deathsaurus.

“Your concern is misplaced, Deathsaurus. You should be far more worried with why you are underestimating me,” Tarn spat, resisting the urge to lilt his Voice across the beastformer’s spark in a small whisper of a warning. “Your stories, while entertaining, have absolutely no relevance to the situation at hand. I trust you won’t waste my time like this again until after we’re through butchering Megatron and his pathetic Autobot allies.”

Sighing heavily, Deathsaurus took a half step back, his expression immediately going to a tired, almost blank look. He hadn’t really expected Tarn to listen to him, but one could always hope, right? Well, in any case, Deathsaurus could at least say that he had tried to talk some sense into the DJD leader. So when things, almost inevitably, went the wrong way, Deathsaurus more or less knew what to expect from Tarn. He just hoped that it would be enough.

The beastformer’s reaction hadn’t been what Tarn had anticipated. In fact, the overall dismissive tone of Deathsaurus’s expression and posture only served to further the DJD leader’s anger. His temper flaring, Tarn stepped towards the winged mech so that he was right in their face, his mask brushing against the tip of Deathsaurus’s nose. He barely noticed that the winged mech bristled and glanced over at the sword they were holding, but that was hardly a concern for Tarn at the moment.

“ **_Do not forget, Deathsaurus,_ ** ” Tarn hissed, his Voice scratching across Deathsaurus’s spark warningly. “ **_There is a reason that Megatron chose me to lead the Decepticon Justice Division. It is the same reason that will be his end._ ** ”

“I can only hope so,” Deathsaurus replied, his voice tight with the strain of his spark being in the grip of Tarn’s Voice. “But while you’re at it, do you mind to not emulate him so much that you’re attacking those that only want to help you?”

The words sent an icy stab of horror through Tarn’s spark, and he immediately dropped his Voice. He fought to keep his expression as neutral as possible, hoping that his mask helped hide his reaction. The tankformer stood there for a moment, mentally kicking himself for having lost control while, at the same time, regaining his composure. As disgusting as it was, Deathsaurus was right in their assertion. Tarn had gone too far in response to advice from an ally...even if it was completely unnecessary.

“My...apologies,” Tarn said haltingly, looking over Deathsaurus quickly. The beastformer didn’t appear to be in too much pain, but still… “I...did not hurt you, did I?”

“You did,” Deathsaurus replied, the same, tired-looking expression having returned to his features. “But it’s minor and will pass quickly. Your apology is accepted and appreciated. I’m just going to ask that you not do that again.”

“Of course,” the DJD leader replied quickly with a nod.

After a moment, Deathsaurus made a short noise and sighed, shifting his weight from one pede to the other. He wasn’t sure that what he was about to say was a good idea, but perhaps one last try couldn’t hurt. Particularly now that Tarn had calmed down a little.

“Will you at least consider what I said?” the beastformer implored.

Though Tarn felt they were quite done with the conversation and Deathsaurus’s inquiry only served to irritate him, the masked mech saw no harm in a little, white lie. If it meant that it would calm the winged mech by a degree, then Tarn could at least pretend to think about the pointless words Deathsaurus had imparted to him.

“Yes, ah, yes. Certainly.”

Though Deathsaurus regarded Tarn with a narrow look, the warworld commander decided to drop the subject. If he were to press it any further, then Tarn would, rightly so, have a reason to be frustrated with Deathsaurus.

“Thank you.” Deathsaurus glanced away, then back to Tarn. “If you will excuse me, I do need to go brief some of my crew about the upcoming assault.”

Nodding and stepping aside so that Deathsaurus could leave, Tarn watched as the warworld commander exited the room. He made a short, humorless chuckle at the very idea that he was underestimating anyone he found himself in the company of, enemy or ally. Deathsaurus was simply being paranoid. Needlessly so. At least they would be all the more appreciative of the victory that Tarn and the DJD was going to bring them.

 

* * *

 

There were times that Nitrogear wished that his audio receptors had been damaged by his decades of circuit speeder abuse. And as he listened to Overlord persuade some of Deathsaurus’s crew with a surprising amount of finesse, Nitrogear wished that now was one of those times. The massive mech could be surprisingly eloquent, all things considered, when they wanted to be. Of course, Nitrogear couldn’t think of anybody suicidal enough to actually tell Overlord “no”, either.

Almost too terrified to move, Nitrogear glanced over at the screen he had been lazily monitoring just a few moments ago. Then Overlord had stepped onto the screen, three mechs in tow, talking rather animatedly and seeming to have the rapt interest of all three of his followers. Nitrogear’s curiosity and suspicions had been piqued, so he had immediately turned up the volume for the receivers in that hallway. The moment he had heard Overlord mention offlining not only Tarn, but Deathsaurus as well, Nitrogear’s spark had sank.

While he, personally, thought that Deathsaurus was a total fool for having accepted the DJD’s offer of a truce and a shaky alliance, Nitrogear had still been willing to follow the beastformer into battle. Well, maybe not directly into battle. More like provide support from the sidelines, but the effort was still going to be there. And then Deathsaurus had gone and let Tarn bring that big-lipped monster on board the warworld and Nitrogear was convinced that his commander had completely lost their mind.

And now Nitrogear was eavesdropping in on the conversation that was planning out the mutiny and deaths of his commander and newfound ‘friends’. He wanted to try and adjust the camera so that he could better see the treasonous mechs that were listening to Overlord, but Nitrogear feared that even the slightest movement of the camera would catch Overlord’s attention. Even so, how was he supposed to be able to tell Deathsaurus who to watch out for if he couldn’t see them?

So, after a lot of assurances that if he just made the camera movement appear to be routine scanning and nothing else, Nitrogear shakily reached for the camera controls. Upon seeing how badly his hand was shaking, the scrawny mech grabbed his wrist with his other hand, which was trembling just as bad. He made a strained whine, then flexed his hand and ventilated deeply a couple of times to try and steady his hand. Fortunately, it seemed to work, and Nitrogear’s hand steadied enough that he was comfortable taking control of the camera.

He then began to slowly scan it across the hallway, feeling his spark twist in dismay at the sight of two mechs that he readily recognized. They hadn’t ever been particularly mean to him, and while they weren’t the closest of friends, they certainly had been better to Nitrogear than most on the warworld. As for the third, while Nitrogear recognized them, he couldn’t say the same for them. Personally, he wasn’t surprised that they were with Overlord. They-

“Don’t you have an operator for the security systems?” Overlord suddenly asked, the words piercing straight through to Nitrogear.

Feeling his entire frame go cold and stiff, Nitrogear barely jerked his hand away before the trembling returned. His optics were as wide as they could go and his spark was pulsing so hard in its chamber that he thought it might rip out of his chassis. He should have known better. He should have known that Overlord would notice!

Even though he heard one of the other mechs acknowledge and identify him as the operator, Nitrogear couldn’t tear his gaze away from Overlord. He was already having nightmarish visions of the mech ripping him into tinsel and using the pieces to decorate the walls of the warworld. And while Nitrogear was fast and, given he’d be running for his life, was quite agile, he knew he wasn’t fast enough to outrun a cannon blast.

“Nitro..,” Overlord started, then stopped. He frowned and looked down at the three mechs, all of whom were, surprisingly, casting each other nervous looks. “What was it again?”

“Nitrogear,” the same mech repeated, albeit a little quieter.

“Right. Nitrogear,” Overlord repeated. He then turned his attention back to the camera, and it was only then that Nitrogear realized the giant mech had grabbed the camera and wasn’t letting it move. “Now, Nitrogear, I’m not sure exactly how much of our little conversation you heard, but I’m sure you know that it’s rather rude to eavesdrop. In fact, it’s a pet peeve of mine, especially when the conversation is of as sensitive a topic as the one we were just discussing.”

Already backing away from the console, his gaze darting around rapidly as he tried to map out all the possible escape routes, Nitrogear finally forced himself to look back to Overlord’s terrifying visage. He wasn’t about to move the camera, and Nitrogear doubted that he even could right now. Between his trembling hand and Overlord’s iron grip, the camera wasn’t going to be doing any moving. He did, however, continue to listen. As dreadful as Overlord’s voice was, Nitrogear at least wanted to know what to expect. The unexpected was far worse, and he could come up with a whole slew of spark-stopping scenarios. Even when Overlord was part of the scenario.

“I’m going to assume that you’re now starting to regret your egregious actions. At least, I certainly hope so,” Overlord continued. “However, in any case, please note that I am going to strongly recommend against running to your beloved leader to tattle. That can and will only make things worse. Should you choose to do the smart thing and refrain from running your mouth, then I can at least promise you a quick and relatively painless death.”

A sick feeling already growing in the pit of his midsection, Nitrogear actually managed a hoarse, choked piece of laughter at the last of Overlord’s offer. A ‘quick and relatively painful death’? Although, in retrospect, Nitrogear wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting from someone like Overlord. And, as insane as he might be for what he was about to do, Nitrogear was going to refuse and opt for the not-so ‘quick and relatively painless death’.

With a whimpered gasp, the scrawny mech tapped in a few, frantic commands to have the cameras and audio record everything, then pivoted and scrambled into the nearest vent. Even though it was out of the way and somewhat hard to find, the security control room was anything but secure. The door could easily be broken open, especially by someone like Overlord, and it was lacking any sort of emergency exit. That is...if you discounted the ventilation shaft that helped keep the room from overheating.

While most mechs would have balked at going into the vents for either size or dignity reasons, Nitrogear had neither of those problems. He scrabbled along the cold metal, trying to keep his movements as quiet as possible. He was already envisioning Overlord somehow managing to tear open the vent as Nitrogear was crawling across and yank the scrawny mech down to certain death. And while the metal itself did very little buckling under Nitrogear’s light weight, the fact that the yellow-opticed mech couldn’t seem to stop trembling, and his very frame rattling echoed down the ventilation shaft.

Well, if he did die, at least Nitrogear could say he was going to die trying to do the right thing.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know,” Tesarus mumbled, shifting his weight from one pede to the other. “Tarn seems pretty sure about this, but I don’t see why we had to bring along Overlord.”

“I’m sure Tarn has his reasons,” Nickel replied, even if she didn’t sound convinced by her own words.

“What reasons would those be, though?” Helex asked, shrugging with his larger arms. “I mean… We’ve got Deathsaurus and his entire crew on our side. Don’t you think that Overlord is a little bit of overkill by this point?”

“Maybe that _is_ the point,” Kaon interjected quietly. This was one of the times that he sincerely wished that the Pet was at his side, but the electrocutioner quickly pushed away the painful thought before it could burrow further into his mind. “I don’t think Tarn just wants to kill Megatron and his Autobot companions. He wants to annihilate them. Overlord...could certainly help accomplish that.”

“So could Deathsaurus’s warworld,” Tesarus muttered.

“Right, but it’s not as personal,” Nickel sighed, her tone morose.


	4. All Ordered Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After hearing plans of mutiny, those still loyal to Deathsaurus try to find others that are still loyal. Meanwhile, Deathsaurus finds himself caught between Overlord's stifling arrogance and Tarn's blinding thirst for vengeance.

As he scrabbled down the ventilation shaft, Nitrogear struggled to keep his crawling as quiet as possible. Already his thoughts were racing with terrifying thoughts of how many mechs Overlord may have already turned over to his way of thinking. What was even worse was that Nitrogear had been outed! And Overlord could crush him with a single step!

Whimpering, Nitrogear froze in place at the idea of being crunched under the massive mech’s pede. Why, oh why, did Deathsaurus have to let so many murderous mechs on board the warworld?! The ones that were _supposed_ to be loyal were frightening enough, he didn’t need to bring the Decepticon Justice Division _and_ Overlord onto the warworld.

Then again...it wasn’t like Deathsaurus had been given much of a choice.

Hugging himself and squeezing his optics shut, Nitrogear tried to calm his racing spark. If he short-circuited himself now, he’d be completely vulnerable and Overlord might be given the opportunity to get to Deathsaurus first. And, no matter how scared he might be, Nitrogear couldn’t let that happen. Deathsaurus had done him a great favor by letting him live and work on the warworld, and Nitrogear wasn’t about to take that for granted.

Ventilating a long, shaking sigh, Nitrogear began to nervously crawl on ahead. He could hear voices emanating from the floor below him, but he could only hope that the ceiling paneling as well as the normal sounds of the warworld masked his progress. As long as there was someone on the floor beneath him, Nitrogear considered himself at risk. He couldn’t trust anybody save for Deathsaurus, Leozack, Lyzack…

...and the Decepticon Justice Division.

The thought was striking enough that Nitrogear almost stumbled, even though he was crawling. His optics widened and he began to consider the option of telling the rest of the DJD what he knew. The scrawny mech knew, from a bit of impromptu eavesdropping, that the rest of the Division wasn’t exactly pleased with their leader’s decision to bring Overlord into the ranks. And while Nitrogear dreaded the idea of actually being anywhere _near_ the group of murder machines, he might be able to tip the odds in Deathsaurus’s favor if he let the other members of the DJD know about Overlord’s mutiny.

Wracking his processor to try and remember where the rest of the DJD had decided to stay, Nitrogear held as still as he could. After a few minutes, he recalled the location and began to tentatively crawl towards it. He could still hear others on the floor beneath him, and the only thing that Nitrogear had in his favor was that he was a fast runner. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to try and outrun the DJD, as well.

 

* * *

 

“You really think Tarn would be willing to do something as risky as personally take on Megatron in the middle of a full on fray?” Helex asked incredulously.

“You saw what he was willing to do when it came to Deathsaurus,” Kaon pointed out, having to twiddle his digits in order to keep himself from trying to pet a rabid turbofox that was no longer present. “Not to mention the fact that he took on Overlord directly when they interrupted his conversation with Megatron. I don’t think he’d hesitate when given the chance, no matter the settings.”

“He’s being incredibly trusting of those that he, uh, recruited,” Tesarus muttered, shifting his weight from pede to pede. “I don’t think he-”

The sound of something scrabbling around above them made the whole DJD stop and look upwards. They exchanged confused and questioning looks, before finally all gazes turned to the tallest of them. Nickel gave Tesarus an affirmative nod, which the titan returned. Watching, listening, and tracking the sound as it went along the ventilation tunnel, the grinder waited until it passed over a darkened grate. He shot his waldos up and through the grate, snagging whatever had been making the noise.

The following shriek of abject terror was loud and stark enough that all the DJD paused and recoiled. In a split second, Tesarus found himself struggling to hold onto whatever he’d caught. It was small enough that it was wiggling free from the grip of his waldos in a panicked frenzy, and their actions were quick and jerky. Making a frustrated growl, Tesarus tightened his grip and yanked down.

Bringing the grate down with him, Nitrogear, still screaming, came tumbling down from the ventilation shaft. He briefly managed to hold onto the edge of the grate frame, but the Tesarus’s far superior strength overpowered him. Nitrogear continued to flail around and proved to be a chore for the titan to hold onto, and the rest of the DJD shuffled back, ready to catch the shrieking, scrawny mech if they managed to escape Tesarus’s hold.

“Letmego! Letmego! Letmego! Don’tkillme! Pleasedon’tkillme!”

“Wait...wait!” Nickel cried, recognizing the small, terrified mech that Tesarus was struggling to hold onto. “Isn’t that Nitrogear? Deathsaurus’s record keeper?”

“Yesyesyesyes!”

_“ <I think that’s a yes,>” _ Vos interjected, unable to help the sarcastic tone in his voice.

“Do you need help holding him?” Helex asked Tesarus, raising a helm ridge.

“Hold still! Hold still!” Nickel shouted, rolling forward so that she was underneath Nitrogear. The scrawny mech’s struggles now had them frantically trying to pry the claw-like digits of Tesarus’s waldo hands off him, but he wasn’t making much progress. “Nitrogear, stop! Tesarus, don’t-don’t hurt him!”

Finally slowing a little, Deathsaurus’s record keeper looked down at Nickel with wide, panicked optics. He was still holding onto one of Tesarus’s waldo hands with his own, shaking ones, but he had at least stopped trying to fight free. He then dangled there in the air, swaying slowly and occasionally making a small, nervous whimper as he looked around at the other DJD members.

“D-d-don’t k-kill me, p-p-please,” Nitrogear stammered, entire frame rattling with nerves.

“We’re not,” Kaon replied as he loosely crossed his arms, sounding annoyed. “But we would like to know what you’re doing crawling around in the vents above us.”

“Yeah. Seems a little suspicious if you ask me,” Tesarus added, lifting up Nitrogear a little.

The light gleamed off the bladed maw in the middle of the titan’s midsection, and Nitrogear made a small, panicked squeak before covering his face with his hands. Nickel sighed and tapped on Tesarus’s leg. As annoying as Nitrogear may be, he was still a mech with pretty close ties to Deathsaurus, and harming him in any way would only stress already strained relations.

Besides, it wasn’t like Nitrogear was a threat of any kind…

“I’ll have Tes put you down if you agree not to run off,” Nickel stated, looking up at Nitrogear. “And if you tell us why you were up in the vents in the first place.”

Though he tried to answer, the still terrified mech only managed a quick, panicked nod.

“That’s better. Tes, go ahead and put him down.” Nickel paused, then held up her index digit. “ _Slowly_ , mind you. Don’t drop him.”

Muttering something under his breath about Nitrogear being too high-strung on circuit speeders, Tesarus did as he was told, regardless. And, true to his wordless nod, Nitrogear didn’t sprint off the moment his pedes touched the ground. Instead, he shuffled away nervously from Tesarus, casting a wide-opticed grimace at the grinder before looking to Nickel.

For a long moment,the two exchanged relatively blank looks...until Nickel quirked a helm ridge expectantly.

“Well? Why were you up in the vents?” Nickel asked.

“Yeah. Aren’t you supposed to be monitoring things on the warworld?” Kaon added.

Blinking quickly and still appearing somewhat lost in the conversation, Nitrogear looked between the DJD members before he remembered why he was there in the first place. Realization dawned across his features and he stood up a little straighter.

“Oh, right!” he exclaimed. Then, just as quickly, Nitrogear hunched down and looked around with a paranoid expression. “It-it’s Overlord.”

The reaction from the DJD was immediate, and their expressions darkened. For a few moments, everyone was silent. Finally, though, Kaon growled a sigh and would have rolled their optics if they’d had any.

“What about him?”

“W-well,” Nitrogear started, rubbing his hands nervously. “I-I was just do-doing my job a-and heard-heard him talking. He wa-was t-talking to-”

“Any chance you could skip the stammering and get right to the point?” Helex interjected in irritation.

“Mutiny!” Nitrogear squeaked out, ducking away from the smelter. “Overlord’s pl-planning mutiny!”

An uneasy silence immediately fell across the room, and the members of the DJD bristled. They cast uncertain looks between themselves, none of them appearing quite ready to believe what Nitrogear was saying. That didn’t, however, mean that they _didn’t_ believe what he had just told them.

“You’re...sure?” Nickel asked slowly, giving Nitrogear a pointed look.

The yellow-opticed mech only nodded in response. His frame was still trembling intermittently, and Nickel wondered if they were about to short circuit right there on the spot. Well, even if he did, she could revive him. She just wasn’t sure how many times she’d have to before Nitrogear either calmed down or his circuits were fried.

“And...you’re telling us this why?” Tesarus muttered.

“Because it’s important, Tes,” Nickel answered.

“Yeah, it is. But what does it change?” the grinder countered, holding his hands out. “Jitters here could tell us that Overlord is planning mutiny against the whole of the warworld-”

“That... _is_ what he’s planning,” Nitrogear whispered.

“-and that doesn’t change a damn thing,” Tesarus continued. “Tarn’s so dead set on killing Megatron that I don’t think he’d even listen if we tried to tell him about Overlord’s mutiny. He’d just shrug it off, say he’ll take care of it later, and then keep on going about things as if nothing has changed. Feel free to tell me otherwise if you think so.”

The fact that nobody spoke up did nothing to calm Nitrogear’s already frantic nerves, and he looked around the rest of the DJD quickly. He kept hoping that one of them, _any_ of them, would say anything, but the rest of the mechs just stood there in silence. For a moment, it seemed like Kaon was going to try and say something, but before he even said a word, the electrocutioner just shook his helm and stayed quiet.

“So...that’s it!?” Nitrogear demanded, his voice squeaking a little once again. “You’re ju-just going to let Overlord rampage through and-and do what he wants?!”

“What do you expect us to do?” Helex demanded in a deadpan tone, crossing his smaller arms.

For a few seconds, Nitrogear just stared at Helex in disbelief. Finally, though, the scrawny mech seemed to find a modicum of courage.

“You’re the _Decepticon Justice Division_ ,” Nitrogear hissed through tightly gritted dentae so that they didn’t chatter. “Do what you do best! Attack him! Maim him! Better yet, do us all a favor and _kill him_! I can’t believe I’m having to tell you, of all people, this!”

Mutely surprised by the outburst, Helex just stared back at the smaller mech. And then, Nitrogear’s brief moment of bravery was gone and he seemed to realize what he’d just said and done. His optics went wide and he shrank back, hugging himself tightly.

“Uh, I-I mean, you c-could,” he stammered quietly. Somehow, he managed to shrink back even more. “...don’t kill me.”

“Trust us,” Kaon interjected. “If we thought we could get away with it, we would go after Overlord in second. But if we did, Tarn would be furious.”

“Why?” Nitrogear asked, his posture slumping a little. “Does he think that Overlord is the deciding factor in this? Does he really not think that Deathsaurus, the warworld, a whole cadre of Decepticons, the DJD, _and himself_ aren’t enough?!”

“It’s not that. Tarn’s determined to see this to the end, one way or the other,” Nickel replied, her gaze downcast and tone somber. “And he’d rather not antagonize someone that he’s already on bad terms with if they’re going to be out on the battlefield together.”

Finally, Nitrogear realized the actual problem and he made a quiet ‘oh’ before falling silent.

It wasn’t that Tarn and the DJD couldn’t handle Overlord, or even a mutiny, should it occur. It was that Tarn, in his blind fervor to hunt down and kill Megatron, _did not care_.

He didn’t care what happened to anything around him. He didn’t care what happened to those around him. Moreover, and worse yet, he didn’t care what happened to himself. So long as Megatron died at the end, that was all that currently mattered to Tarn.

Suddenly, Nitrogear shook his helm quickly.

“No, no, no,” he grumbled. He crossed his arms tightly, practically hugging himself, and looked around angrily at the DJD. “You can at least make sure that Overlord’s mutiny doesn’t get too costly, can’t you? You can at least make sure that Deathsaurus and the ones that are loyal to him don’t get murdered, can’t you?”

“While I can appreciate the vote of confidence, just how strong do you think we are?” Kaon asked, his expression somewhere between a sneer and incredulous. “If it were just a few, then we might be able to handle it. But you’re talking about trying to fight a battle on two fronts. Besides, we don’t even know _who_ to watch out for, aside from Overlord.”

“I...I can find out,” Nitrogear replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“ _You_ can?” Tesarus asked in disbelief.

“I can monitor the whole of the warworld. It would just take a bit of eavesdropping and I could find out who the majority of the mutineers are.”

“You can do that without getting caught?” Helex inquired. “Because if Overlord gets a hold of you, you’re on your own.”

Stifling the urge to whimper at the idea, Nitrogear just forced himself to nod.

“I-I can try.”

“Come on, Helex,” Nickel interrupted. “If this is going to work, we can’t really let Nitrogear get killed. At least, not before the fight.”

Whatever brief hope that he might be safe was just as quickly dashed, but Nitrogear remained quiet. He just reminded himself that this _was_ the DJD after all. It was foolish to expect any sort of reciprocation from them for warning them about Overlord’s impending mutiny.

Still, that didn’t exactly make Nitrogear feel any better.

“Alright,” Helex agreed with a quick shrug of his massive shoulders. “I’m just saying that we can’t be bodyguards on top of all this.”

“R-right. Got-got it.” After a moment, Nitrogear looked back up at the DJD, still hugging himself tightly. “C-can you at le-least make sure that D-Deathsaurus doesn’t get k-k-killed? It-it’s not hi-his fault he-he’s in this sit-situation.”

The silence and narrow-opticed looks that Nitrogear was given made him immediately wish that he’d kept his mouth shut. Fortunately, before he could faint, Nickel nodded.

“We can _try_. No promises.”

“R-right. Th-thanks.”

 

* * *

 

As he strode down the hallway, Deathsaurus made a mental note to keep his voice level and tone polite. Even if he was still angry at Tarn ever since the masked mech had used their damnable Voice on his spark, the beastformer was going to give the DJD leader the benefit of the doubt. While it was practically impossible to fully do so, Deathsaurus was trying to imagine how he would be behaving if he was in Tarn’s situation. After all, he had been given the...mercy, as it was, of not falling into a zealot-like idol worship of the former warlord. Deathsaurus’s disdain for Megatron had been present since almost the very beginning.

So, instead, Deathsaurus had tried to imagine himself being forced to kill one of his own crew that he trusted most. The idea of having to offline Leozack, Lyzack, Dreadnought, even Nitrogear, for all his neurosis, was one that made the warworld commander’s spark twist in protest. So perhaps he should be a little more understanding towards Tarn’s outbursts.

Nearing the doorway to the debriefing room that Tarn had been in for the past couple of hours, Deathsaurus straightened his posture. The masked mech had been exhaustively running through battle strategies and plans of attack. By this point, Deathsaurus was a little surprised that they hadn’t simply collapsed. Then again, perhaps animosity was a stronger fuel than he gave it credit for.

The moment that he opened the door, however, Deathsaurus’s good mood immediately dissipated. His optics narrowed, wings raised, and the beastformer had to fight the urge to bare his fangs.

It wasn’t just Tarn in the debriefing room. It was Tarn _and_ Overlord.

The larger tankformer seemed to be amused by the plans that Tarn was outlining, but the masked mech paid Overlord’s mocking smirk no heed. Instead, he continued to point out weak points and talk in a grimly enthused tone. Tarn was so engrossed with the illuminated plans before him that he didn’t even seem to notice Deathsaurus. Nauseatingly enough, it was Overlord that first noticed the warworld commander.

“Well, well… Speak of the beast and he shall appear.”

His narrowed gaze flicked to the taller mech and Deathsaurus had to keep his jaw set to avoid saying anything inflammatory. Fortunately, Tarn finally looked up at hearing Overlord speak, and then followed the tankformer’s gaze to Deathsaurus. The winged mech hadn’t moved from the two steps he’d taken across the doorway’s threshold.

“Ah, Deathsaurus. So glad you could join us. Come here, if you would.”

A little taken aback by how cordial Tarn’s tone was, Deathsaurus momentarily hesitated to oblige the tankformer’s request. Instead, his gaze went back to Overlord. The massive mech just looked at him with that same, irritatingly smug smirk, before quirking an eyebrow in suspicion.

Sighing inwardly, Deathsaurus walked over to the two, his posture rigid and wings still slightly raised. He had hoped to speak to Tarn _alone_. And, of all mechs, Overlord was arguably the worst to have as a third party to the conversation.

“Overlord and I were just discussing a couple of routes that your warworld could take when moving in to cut down Megatron’s forces.”

He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he was closer, Deathsaurus could easily see how haggard the DJD leader was. Despite the mask, Tarn’s optics seemed to glow a little dimmer and his frame seemed to be almost slouched over the table. Glancing down to Tarn’s hands, the winged mech grimly noted that the tankformer was gripping the edges of the table so fiercely that their digit tips had dug into the metal.

Just how long had Tarn been going over these plans?

Reflexively, Deathsaurus looked over to Overlord. He just as quickly averted his gaze, instead choosing to focus on the glowing map in front of him. The idea of Overlord having even a shred of concern for Tarn’s well-being was hilarious bordering on lunacy.

After studying the routes that Tarn had mapped out for the warworld, Deathsaurus raised a helm ridge and looked over at the tankformer. His expression was a mix of apprehension and concern, but the warworld commander was careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

“Tarn...you do know that my warworld’s firepower is not going to be able to split like that, correct?” Deathsaurus inquired, looking back down to the parallel, but widely spread, routes. He also couldn’t help but noticed that they seemed to have a small degree of sway to them. Did Tarn expect him to pilot the warworld while inebriated?

“I didn’t know that your warworld became stationary when firing at enemies,” Overlord commented mockingly.

“It’s _not_ ,” Deathsaurus growled, giving the larger mech a pointed glare. “However, like most things that are large, it’s also slow.”

The barbed reply wasn’t missed, and Overlord’s smirk faded by a degree. He crossed his arms loosely, returning the pointed look that Deathsaurus was giving him. Tarn, however, seemed to be oblivious to the staredown. Instead, the masked mech was already muttering to himself and trying to edit the hypothetical routes for the warworld.

“That’s fine, that’s fine,” Tarn interjected, waving a hand even though his gaze was still fixated on the map. “We still have plenty of time to plan.”

Watching the tankformer go back to work, Deathsaurus ventilated a long sigh of indecisiveness. He wasn’t sure he wanted to ask just how exhausted the masked mech was with Overlord standing right there. However, he also didn’t want Tarn collapsing right onto the table and breaking something, themselves included.

After a bit more deliberation, Deathsaurus looked back to Overlord.

“Isn’t there some unfortunate soul that you need to go terrorize?” he asked, working to keep his tone more joking than accusing. Nevermind his thoughts on the question were quite the opposite.

“Maybe there is,” Overlord agreed with an offhanded shrug. His smirk then returned, only this time it had a definite hint of cruelty to it. “However, I’m waiting to see Tarn collapse from exhaustion. I know that he’s been working on these plans for at least-”

“I will _not_ collapse,” Tarn interrupted sharply, snapping a scowling gaze up to Overlord.

“Of course you won’t,” Overlord crooned.

Glancing between the two tankformers quickly, Deathsaurus started to remind them that all fighting needed to be done _away_ from the fragile control systems and equipment. He then realized, though, that Tarn’s refusal to stop working may very well be just as much animosity towards Megatron as it was a refusal to appear weak in front of Overlord. And Overlord, true to his irritating nature, seemed to be delighting in using Tarn’s stubbornness against them.

Deathsaurus had to figure out a way to get the larger of the two tankformers out of the room. He could try ordering Overlord around, but the winged mech worried that doing so would only further goad them into a confrontation. Maybe if he tried another approach…

“Well, I don’t care what either of you are intending, but I know that this map projector was due for maintenance thirty minutes ago,” Deathsaurus lied, trying to feign an irritated tone. “So your plans are going to need to wait at least long enough for said maintenance to be completed.”

“Maintenance?” Tarn repeated, sounding confused.

“For what? Vermin?” Overlord scoffed.

“It’s just routine maintenance. But if you want these maps to be accurate and the lighting to work, you’re going to have to take a break whether you like it or not.” Deathsaurus paused, then grinned up at Overlord, flashing his fangs. “Unless you’d like to stick around to watch the maintenance guy work.”

That did it.

A grimace crossed Overlord’s features and he quickly shook his helm, stepping away from the table. He grumbled something about ‘pests’ before exiting the room. Deathsaurus watched him leave, and even waited a little after the door had closed behind the tankformer. He didn’t want to chance Overlord coming back into the room and finding out that Deathsaurus had lied just to get him out of there.

After a little longer, the winged mech was satisfied that Overlord was, indeed, gone, and he turned to face Tarn. Though he shouldn’t have been, Deathsaurus was surprised to see that the DJD leader had actually unhinged their mask just enough that they could reach up under it to rub at their face. The warworld commander stood very still, unable to avert his gaze.

A few short moments later, Tarn sighed heavily and clicked his mask back into place. He straightened his posture with a muffled groan, then looked to Deathsaurus. If he was offended by the beastformer staring, he certainly didn’t show it.

“I suppose I should get these maps saved and closed out, then, before the-”

“I lied.”

The interruption made Tarn pause and he stared at Deathsaurus blankly.

“You...lied?”

“About the maintenance,” the warworld commander hastily explained. He jerked his helm in the direction of the doorway. “I had to think of something to get Overlord out of here, and I didn’t think he’d respond very well to being ordered about.”

His thoughts were muddled thanks to the fatigue that he had been denying to admit, and Tarn struggled to piece together what Deathsaurus was telling him. While he was certainly appreciative of the fact that Overlord was out of the room, he still couldn’t understand why Deathsaurus hadn’t simply ordered them out if they had been such an offending presence. The winged mech was commander of the warworld they were on, after all.

...or, perhaps, Deathsaurus was just trying to keep the uneasy peace that was between the three of them.

“Oh, I see,” Tarn replied, finally realizing the beastformer’s intent. He managed a humorless smile, even though it was mostly concealed by his mask. “Well, thank you for amicably sending him away.”

“You’re welcome.” Deathsaurus hesitated for a moment, then gave Tarn a scrutinizing look. “How long have you been working on those maps? You look exhausted.”

“I _am_ exhausted,” Tarn replied, surprised, and a little scared, at how easily he admitted the fact to Deathsaurus. He started to try and retract the statement, but after a quick thought, Tarn opted to be honest as he continued. “I hadn’t been intending to plan for so long, but I refuse to let any small mistakes become larger hindrances later on.”

“You do know that planning when you’re so tired that you can barely stand is a bit worse than just a small mistake, right?”

“Why, Deathsaurus, I didn’t know you were so concerned about my welfare,” Tarn chuckled, though his tone was absent of any mocking.

“Would you prefer I not be?”

The question gave Tarn pause, and he considered it carefully before answering.

“No. I suppose I prefer that you are.”


End file.
